Page 24 of Bryce

“To me youwere.”

“What?”He stared at her blankly for a second, having lost the trend ofconversation.

“Are you allright?”

“Yes.” Heturned away and took a deep breath. “Just tired, I guess.”

“It’s notthat late.”

“I was up untillate last night and rose early this morning. The air is what’sdoing it to me. Usually, I can go all night with only a few hours ofsleep, but it’s different.” He pushed open the door andstepped out, coming around to open hers.

He stepped back sothat their bodies would not make contact. He was not sure he would beable to handle it. “Thanks for tonight.”

“You’rewelcome. How about a nightcap?”

He shook his head. “Ithink I will go for a walk before turning in.”

“If you changeyour mind, you know where everything is in the kitchen.”

“I do.”He smiled at her before turning in the direction of the hill.

He walked for a whatseemed like miles, only stopping when he reached the top. It waschilly, the breeze springing up and rustling everything around,including his jacket. Shoving his hands into the pockets of hisjacket, he stood there wrapped in the vibrant and somewhat untamedbeauty of the area.

His hair was tousledby the fingers of the wind as if a lover was raking her fingersthrough the thick strands. Could he live here? The thought cameunbidden and had him blinking. Where the hell had that come from?

Of course he couldnot. He would be bored within a week and dying to get back to theswing of things. He was a big city kind of guy. He loved the brightlights and the frenzied activities. This was just a pause for him. Arejuvenating of the spirit and soul and then he would be back homewhere he belongs. But what of her? What of Zahra?

“What abouther?” He had no idea he had spoken aloud, until he heard theecho of his voice in the stillness.

You have feelings forher.

“No. Goddammityes, but that does not matter.” He laughed grimly andcontemplated that he was going mad. Here he was talking to himself.It would never work, he decided. She belonged here and he didn’t.It would be ludicrous to think of himself living here of all places.He had homes in several countries.

Luxurious homes. Hehated the informality of hotels and preferred his own place. Thevilla in Tuscany, the pied a’ terre in Paris, the flat inLondon and the one in Scotland. There was also the place in theBahamas. And his townhouse in New York and an apartment inCalifornia.

He would neverconsider settling here. But ever since he connected with her, theyearning had started. He enjoyed being with her. He could talk to herwithout having to hide his innermost thoughts.

She had never treatedhim like an object. Lifting a hand, he passed it around the back ofhis neck. It was no use wishing for something that could neverhappen, he thought grimly. They did not belong together and that wasthat. Wishing that things were different was just - well it was juststupid and unproductive.

Chapter 7

They fell into theirregular routine, seamlessly. The bonding of friendship had alwaysbeen there, from the very beginning. Zahra was determined to ignorethe flashes and bolts of electricity, telling herself that it wasperfectly normal.

Bryce Whitlock hadthe power to make a woman – any woman with blood runningthrough her veins, wish that he would train those baby blues on them.He was gorgeous and that was established.

But she had to beimmune, or if not immune, she had to distance that part of her fromeverything else. He was a friend and nothing more. It could benothing more than that.

The good thing wasthat they had always been able to relate to each other, even backthen when their worlds were spinning out of control. And it was nodifferent now. He spoke to her about his work. Acting was somethinginto which he had fallen. Something at which he was extremely good.

“Putting onsomeone else’s persona came naturally.” They were seatedon the porch, enjoying the sweep of rain that had come after a fewclouds had settled in. He had been at the inn a week now and it feltlike home. Dinner had been finished, the two couples and the elderlylady with the purple hair had retired for the night.

All of them,including Gladys had recognized him, but had not made a big deal ofit. He was charming and courteous and made it plain that he was onvacation. “I always wanted to be someone else.” He slidher a glass as he stretched his legs out. She was wearing anoversized plum colored sweater over black leggings.

Her hair was piled ontop of her head, leaving her throat bare. The twinge of lust settledon him like a familiar cloak. He could smell her perfume and wantedto taste her skin. Turning his head away, he stared out at the sheetof rain, his thoughts in turmoil.

He would do well toleave, he thought grimly. Staying would only prolong the agony ofwanting her and never taking. He could not afford to. They were in agood place now and he could not afford to change that.

“Bryce?”Her soft cultured voice dragged him from his reverie.

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